


My Precious Boy

by rabidchild67



Category: White Collar
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Fuck Or Die, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuck or die. Alternate, contrivey ending for Under the Radar – what if Adler decided to hang on to Neal and Peter for a while longer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Precious Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Title is kinda-sorta a lyric from the song “Lullaby” by The Cure, and I’ve used a few lines from the song in the dialogue as well.

The first thing Neal became aware of as he woke was the pounding in his head. Whatever was in that drug cocktail Adler had given them, it was too much. 

The second thing he became aware of was the steady pulling at his head as someone ran their fingers through his hair, accompanied by the voice of someone murmuring quietly, “Wake up Neal, baby. Wake up.”

He opened his eyes and immediately wished he was still unconscious. He was lying on the floor with his head in Vincent Adler’s lap, and Adler was the one petting him. A hundred memories flooded his mind – Alex, the U-boat, the Enigma machine, billions in Nazi treasure. _Peter_. 

He struggled to sit up, to pull away, but Adler put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, made shushing noises. “Shhh, Neal. Just lie quietly. I know those drugs are nasty. You should be still for a bit longer.”

A hundred other memories came to Neal as well, memories he’d worked hard to suppress – Vincent Adler’s predilections were well-known to him, and the fuel for his worst nightmares. He scrambled away from his former mentor, immediately regretting the sudden movement, because the room seemed to be spinning of its own accord. He hunched over and lay curled in a ball, trying desperately not to vomit. 

There was a hand on his back, rubbing, soothing. “It’ll pass, baby. Don’t worry. Breathe deeply, it’ll pass.”

He recoiled then, sat up to face Adler, bumped into the wall and leaned against it for support. Adler held his hand out to him, palm up, but Neal’s eyes were suddenly on what was _behind_ the former billionaire.

Peter was hanging by his wrists from a large pipe that ran the length of the room. He was shirtless, barefoot and unconscious, his toes barely touching the floor. He faced slightly away from Neal, so that the long, bloody lash marks that crisscrossed his back were visible. Blood had seeped into the waistband of his pants, and a heavy sheen of sweat was still pouring from him. 

Neal’s eyes widened in horror and then fixed back on Adler, who was still looking at him with concern, his hand still outstretched. 

“What have you done?” Neal whispered.

Adler glanced casually over his shoulder. “Oh, that. Well, you can’t blame me for getting started without you. You were sleeping.” He stood and offered Neal a hand up. Neal did not react, just continued staring at him, so he shrugged and strolled away. He stopped when he got to Peter, stood in front of the unconscious agent and peered into his face.

“Where’s Alex?” 

“I honestly don’t know. I had my men get rid of her.”

“Like you’re going to get rid of me? And Peter?”

Adler’s eyes flicked back to Neal. “Agent Burke: yes, very likely. But not you, Neal, never you. Not my precious boy.” There was a manic glint in Vincent’s eyes that Neal knew all too well, and he flinched as the man picked up his cat o’ nine tails and began to fondle its handle. 

_No, no, no, this isn’t happening,_ he prayed. _Not again._

“Please don’t hurt him, please,” Neal begged. “I’ll do anything you want, anything.”

“You’ll come away with me?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll tell me you love me, make me believe it?”

“Yes.”

Adler’s eyes flicked over to Peter, who was now conscious and staring daggers at his tormentor. 

“Show me.”

Neal stood up on shaky legs and moved slowly over to where Adler stood. Peter’s head swiveled to look at him and their eyes met. “Don’t do it, Neal.”

“He’ll kill you, Peter. I can’t take that chance.”

“He’ll kill me anyway.”

“Well, that’s not fair, Agent Burke,” Adler said mockingly. “You hardly know me.”

“But I know you,” Neal said. ”You’re a man of your word, aren’t you, Vincent?” 

Adler looked at him as he sank to his knees in front of him, and his eyes softened to see him in such a submissive posture. Neal bowed his head.

“Neal, please don’t,” Peter said, his voice breaking, but Neal ignored him.

Neal reached for Adler and took his belt in his hands. He undid his pants and pushed them down, pulling Adler toward him with shaking hands on the man’s hips. Adler moved his fingers along Neal’s jaw and caught his chin in his hand. He tilted Neal’s head back and looked at him with shining eyes. “My precious boy,” he murmured and Neal suppressed a shudder at the old nickname.

When Neal told Peter the story of his time working for Vincent Adler, he left out a few details. Like how he’d fallen into a sexual relationship with the man ater he’d made an advance, because Moz thought it would help them get the information they needed faster. And how Adler liked to inflict pain as often as he liked to shower his partners with affection and extravagant gifts. Neal endured the man’s abuse because it was a means to an end – there had always been an expiration date on it in his mind – but it had affected him more than he thought it would. He was plagued by nightmares for years and never shared it with anyone, though he suspected that Kate knew. 

And now here he was again, face-to-face with the man, and the old fear, the feelings of helplessness had come back with a vengeance. Only this time, he wasn’t enduring Vincent’s abuses to further a con, he was doing it to save a life.

Neal took Adler’s flaccid penis into his hand and, closing his eyes, he wrapped his mouth around the head. He sucked and caressed it to hardness, ignoring the man’s low moans and trying to concentrate on the mechanics. He also tried to ignore the sound of Peter’s irregular breathing, because it sounded to him as if his partner was crying for him, and the thought was something he couldn’t bear. He moved Adler and himself a quarter turn so that what they were doing was more obscured from Peter’s sight line.

When Adler’s cock was fully engorged, he took hold of the sides of Neal’s head and began fucking his mouth with a force Neal was not accustomed to. Tears ran down his face as he tried not to gag, and the sight only spurred Adler on to drive into him harder, holding his face against his crotch until Neal couldn’t breathe. Finally, Neal had to pull away or risk being smothered. He looked up at Adler and prepared to go at it again when Adler smacked his cock against his face and shook his head. “No, that’s enough of that. I need all of you, Neal.”

Neal nodded resignedly and rose, unknotting his tie, but Adler wouldn’t let him. Apparently under the illusion that this was somehow a seduction, Adler took a step forward and reached up to kiss him. Neal let him but didn’t kiss him back. Adler then set about undressing Neal, running his fingers in loving caresses down Neal’s torso, fisting Neal’s cock and jerking on it until it was hard. Neal long ago learned not to be surprised at how his body reacted to the man’s fumbling ministrations, but he was still disgusted with himself at how easily it happened.

Wanting it over with, Neal took Vincent’s hand in his own and sank down to the floor. They were behind Peter now, Neal made sure of that, so his partner did not have to see. Neal watched as Adler removed the rest of his own clothing, and waited for Adler to join him. Vincent pushed him onto all fours and got behind him, and Neal tensed as the other man spat in his own hand, using the saliva to lube up his own cock and Neal’s hole. 

Adler guided the head of his dick to Neal’s entrance and began to push in. Neal sucked in his breath at the pain, which only seemed to turn the other man on even more. Adler thrust into Neal then, and Neal bucked away involuntarily, a small cry escaping his lips. He dropped his head and took deep breaths, knowing if he could relax it would make it easier for himself, but he couldn’t. An audible inhale coming from where Peter hung from the ceiling only made it worse. 

Adler took a handful of Neal’s hair and tugged hard, pulling his head back. Neal cried out again, involuntarily, then closed his eyes as Adler continued to pound into him. Adler leaned forward and planted a kiss on Neal’s ear. “Be still. If you struggle like that, I will only love you more,” he whispered and Neal bit his lip until it bled. 

Finally, Adler came and when he let go of him, Neal sank to the floor on his side, gasping for breath. Adler stretched out behind him and planted kisses down his neck, pausing to whisper, “My precious boy, my precious boy,” over and over into his ear. 

After several minutes, Vincent gave him another kiss on the jaw and then got up and began to get dressed. Neal watched him, but did not move. “I’ve got to go and take care of a few things,” Adler said. “I’ll be back soon.” He paused near the door. “Be good,” he said, and left, locking the door behind him.

“Neal?”

Peter’s voice brought Neal back to reality and the ragged edge it had as he spoke made Neal flinch. “Yeah, buddy,” Neal replied and sat up, wincing from the pain, grabbed his shirt and put it on. Next he took up his pants then got to his feet, pulling them on slowly. 

“Neal.” Peter repeated, apparently unable to say much more, the enormity of what had just happened stealing all his words. 

Neal moved slowly over to Peter and stood in front of him, checking out the pair of cuffs at his wrists, as well as the pipe that he hung from. The pipe was sturdy, so there would be no pulling it out of the wall. Neal began to look around the room for something to pick the locks with.

“ _Neal_.”

Neal held up his forefinger to Peter to quiet him, and the two men looked at each other. Neal’s eyes were steely, making it clear to Peter that he would not discuss what had just happened. “We need to get out of here,” he said, finding a discarded ball point pen on the floor and unscrewing the cap. Unraveling the spring he found inside, he set to work on the handcuffs. 

The cuffs’ locks would be easy enough to pick, but Peter was dead weight hanging from them, and Neal knew he would have to support his partner before he could free the second hand so that Peter wouldn’t fall to the floor. He freed Peter’s right arm and guided it around his own shoulders, where it lay heavy and unmoving. “Hang on to me,” Neal muttered in Peter’s ear. “I don’t want to drop you.”

“I can’t,” Peter gasped, his voice tight with pain. “I think…I think my shoulder’s dislocated.”

“OK, just lean forward then, OK?” Peter nodded and Neal leaned his shoulder forward so that he took most of Peter’s weight. It took several minutes to unlock the second set of handcuffs, and when Peter was free, Neal staggered back under him, barely getting his arms around his back before he fell. Neal got Peter to the floor as gently as he could, where he sat like a de-stringed marionette, his legs straight out in front of him and his arms hanging loose between them. 

“Thank you,” Peter panted. 

“Thank me when we get the hell out of here.”

“I don’t know if I can make it, Neal.”

“You have to.”

Peter shook his head, and Neal noticed how pale he was. “I can’t move my arms, and my legs are like Jell-o. I’d only slow you down. You should go – call for help. It’s the smartest thing.”

Neal knelt down in front of Peter and looked at him like he was crazy. “Never leave a man behind, Peter. You taught me that, remember? If one of us gets out of here, we both do. Maybe if you just rest a few minutes?”

Peter nodded and bowed his head, breathing deeply and trying to gather himself while Neal went over to the door and inspected the lock. It was a simple deadbolt, and he thought he could pick it easily, if he could find the right tool for it. The spring from the pen was too flimsy, so he started to search the room again. A set of dirty drapes were strung across a tiny, barred window at one end of the room and he pulled them down. The pins were maybe too thin, but he thought if he could maneuver with three or four of them within the lock – and if they were long enough, he could make it work. He started working on them, trying to straighten them out.

“Neal?” Peter said quietly.

Neal glanced up at him, then continued with what he was doing. The drapery pins were very hard to work with, and it was a convenient excuse not to look at his partner.

“In case I don’t get a chance to say it again, thanks for saving my life today.”

Neal found he had tears in his eyes suddenly. He shook his head. 

“Neal, what you just did for me, what Adler did to you – “

“He would have killed you, Peter,” Neal interrupted, looking up at him.

“But Neal –“

“But nothing. Adler would’ve killed you, and if what I did saved you.....I’d do it over and over again. I’d do anything for you, Peter, because I -” he stopped himself, pretended to concentrate on the pins he held.

What was he going to say? Was he going to finally admit that he was in love with Peter? That he had been for over a year, and he’d do anything within his power - _anything_ \- to spare him from any kind of suffering? That the reason he hadn’t told him the whole story about his relationship with Adler was because he couldn’t endure it if Peter knew what Neal had been reduced to? Couldn’t bear having him see what he’d had to do here today – what he would have to do again when Adler came back? 

“What? Because you what?” Peter pressed.

 _I love you._ But he couldn’t say it. Neal shook his head.

“Neal,” Peter said to him, in a voice that commanded his partner’s attention. 

Neal looked up at him, eyes large and filling with tears. To say it now could end everything, or it could be a beginning. He didn’t think he could handle it either way.

“I do too, Neal. I do.”

Neal’s mind reeled at Peter’s words. From the expression on his face, there was no mistaking that Peter’s feelings were the same as Neal’s. He almost didn’t believe it. He opened his mouth to speak.

A loud BANG sounded suddenly somewhere in the building, followed by a huge commotion and a cacophony of shouts: “FBI! FBI! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

Neal moved to stand protectively in front of the helpless Peter, in case Adler or one of his goons got to them before the FBI did. “I guess Alex got away,” Peter said, relief in his voice.

“Always could count on that girl in a crisis,” Neal said, and they both turned their faces expectantly toward the door. 

Their conversation would have to wait.

\----

Thank you for your time.


End file.
